Bite the Bullet
by greyslostwho
Summary: In which Harry decides to do just that. "But what if we don't? What if we're wonderful?" Pre-NY oneshot.


**BITE THE BULLET**

**In which Harry decides to do just that. "But what if we don't? What if we're wonderful?" **

**This one goes out to Freya82, who totally gave me the kick up the backside to start writing more pre-NY fic, and has given me a lot of support on numerous other fics. Thank her for persuading me to write this!**

**Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, in case you were wondering.**

She died quickly, in the end, his mother. It was bone cancer, and there wasn't anything about it that was kind, but he supposed it was kinder that it was over so quickly; once they realised all that cruelty to try and cure her wasn't helping, her suffering ceased pretty quickly.

And then everything was a fiasco, laced with sorting out her estate, the financial shambles he hadn't known anything about, a horrific funeral, and walking back into an empty house that now belonged entirely to him; he couldn't bear to be in it, but he couldn't quite bear to let it go either. And Nikki was there, throughout the whole thing, her hand in his as the vicar spoke in the church, sat silently in the passenger seat of his car on the way to see the solicitor, and she is stood there now, in that empty house's doorway, looking slightly apprehensively at him as he just stands staring at the fireplace for a moment, not saying a word.

He used to imagine, in his wildest dreams, he and Nikki would be the ones here in the future, three or four little children scattered about their feet, smiling incessantly. Because if he's honest, he can't imagine any kind of future without Nikki's hand in his, and if anything, the week following his Mum's death has solidified that. But right now, that terrifies him. Right now, lives are finite and cut painfully short, and he can't have that much reliance on a future with one person. He has to be able to do everything by himself, a cushioning of sorts from any loss.

So it is, "I think I need some time by myself here, now, Nikki…" that comes out of his mouth, and she just looks sad when she looks at him then, but she gives him a tiny, resigned smile, and an "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then," and she leaves without saying anything else.

He sits in that empty lounge after that, staring at his hands, wondering where he is supposed to go from here. He's all alone in the world, on his own now; he doesn't even have his mother… But there's something in the back of his brain that tells him he's being slightly ridiculous, hasn't Nikki shown him enough in the last week that he isn't on his own, he isn't on his own in anything?

Maybe he isn't thinking straight, they say that's what happens when you suffer a great loss, but all of a sudden, everything she's been to him in the last years seems to add up to something. She is more than something, actually, she's everything, and he suddenly realises she has been for longer than he can remember…

He sighs, and with clarity of mind he hasn't had since he got that phone-call from the hospital in the early hours of the morning last Friday, he knows what he needs to do. Suddenly, there isn't any other option, and he supposes losing someone close to you tells you that there's never enough time, so he has to do what he needs to do right now. Waiting is dangerous all of a sudden; leaving anything too long is risking leaving it forever.

He turns up on Nikki's front door step in about an hour in the end; he'd driven down the street and back three or four times, trying (unsuccessfully) to convince himself this didn't need doing. Everything was good as it was, nothing needed to change. But that's the thing… everything was good as it was, but if he could change it… He doesn't let himself think about the possible outcomes, because some of them don't bear thinking about.

When she answers the door, she's in her winter pyjamas and a dressing gown, clutching a cup of tea. She looks slightly bemused at Harry on the doorstep, and then a look of sympathy descends on her features.

"You don't want to be alone, I understand that…" she steps back, lets him through. He stands there for a moment, suddenly apprehensive, suddenly dreading what seemed like a thousand possible disastrous outcomes.

"Could I… could I have a word?" he half-whispers, and that's confusion in her eyes, and she stops, almost looking scared.

He steps through then, closing the door behind him, and there isn't any time to wait, to put it off, anymore. He swallows, and then takes her hands.

He closes his eyes for a second, and then he dives straight in.

"I don't have a clue, Nikki, if you have any idea how I feel about you… I don't have a clue whether you feel even slightly the same way… but I just can't- I just- I figured I had to tell you. I guess… I guess everything that's happened, it told me I shouldn't leave it any longer… you know you're special to me, Nikki, I don't think you know how special, I-" he trails off, losing the words. She doesn't say a thing, just stares up at him through those wide eyes, getting increasingly paler. "-I guess… I guess you ought to know, and then you can do with it whatever you want to do with it… I've been in love with you for a long time… I'm not even sure when it crossed the line from being your friend to being in love with you but I… I love you." He seems to fall flat as he finishes, daring to look at his friend with a sparkling of what could possibly be construed as hope in his eyes.

For a long time, there's silence.

She is white as a sheet now, and for moments she doesn't seem as though she can figure out either what she wants to say or how she wants to say it. When she speaks, there is something different about her voice, something quiet, something almost as if it's an entirely different woman talking.

"You've been through a lot recently and I…"

He interrupts, rage suddenly coursing through his bloodstream at her refusal to give him any kind of answer, her futile attempt to brush this all under the carpet. "For heaven's sake, this isn't about my mum, Nikki!" he snaps, and then drops her hands as if they were scalding and runs a hand through his hair. "I've just said what I've just said to you… I need something back, Niks, I need some sort of answer…"

She shrugs, and that is almost as infuriating. She shakes her head at him slowly, every inch of her body shaking slightly, suddenly feeling slightly light on her feet. "I need to process this, Harry… I just need a minute to think, I…" she trails off, and without another word, walks silently through to sink into the sofa in her lounge, head in her hands, trying to make sense of what is both her dream of a long time and something that feels far too big to handle right now.

There is a silence for a long time, Nikki burying her head in her hands, Harry standing blankly in the doorway; unsure what kind of reaction is the norm to something like this. When she looks up at him, after what could have been minutes, could have been hours, he's lost all sense of time; there are tears running down her cheeks.

When she speaks, the voice seems hers again.

"I just don't know, Harry, we're such good friends, and every relationship we're ever in doesn't end well... I don't want to lose you..."

Surprisingly, the first thing he thinks is that that's not a denial of reciprocation, and that's what he's looking for, if he's honest, some sort of reciprocation.

"You feel the same way then? You haven't said you don't feel the same way?"  
She shakes her head, and sighs, like it's an admission she doesn't want to make. "I feel the same way. I've always felt the same way, I just... I don't want us to end on bad terms, I-"_  
_"But what if we don't? What if we're wonderful?" he breathes, and he realises as he says it he's never had so much faith in anything in his life. Call it intuition, call it false belief, but right in that second he doesn't doubt that they could be wonderful.

She looks at him sadly, like she can't quite believe what he's saying, but she wishes she could. And she wants to, more than she can even explain. This… this is what she's been wishing for for years, and Harry's in front of her, and Harry's offering her everything, and suddenly she's terrified, suddenly she wants to back out the cowardly way, suddenly she realises how much this could lose.

When she doesn't say anything for minutes, he gives her a little smile, some sort of desperate hope flitting across his features. "What if we're the ones for each other? What if it hasn't worked with anyone else because we're meant to be together?"

She supposes that does make some sense, despite how much of a leap it would be. She's never been a particular believer in things going right in her life, and she certainly stopped believing in fate a long time ago, but maybe there's some logic in there being someone for everyone, maybe that's something towards the reason she can never find happiness with someone for very long. She sighs. The reality of it all seems initially ridiculous, but if she starts thinking about it, it starts making more sense. What if… just what if he's right?

When she speaks, her voice is shaky; like she's daring something she's not sure is sensible. "You do talk a good game, Harry... I'm tired and I'm 40 and I'm lonely... Ask me again, I might not be able to think of a reason not to say yes..."

With hindsight, she'll say that it was the smile on his face when she said that that made up her mind, gave her her final decision; suddenly all those feelings are bubbling up inside her, and she takes a couple of steps towards him.

"Nikki, I've been thinking about this every day for years… will you, could you-"

That is when she smashes her lips into his – she supposes once she'd made the decision, she had to reinforce it as quickly as possible, and there doesn't seem like any other way. And after the initial couple of seconds of shock, his lips move under hers like there's no tomorrow; he tastes like she remembers from a pub in the rain what feels like a hundred years ago, and the reinforcement she was looking for increases tenfold. He pulls back, breathless, and rests his forehead against hers, a huge smile on his face.

He realises, as he catches his breath, he hasn't smiled like this, he hasn't felt _happy_ like this since he lost his Mum. Her smile is slightly more nervous, but he supposes he's just going to have to be reinforcing to her every day for a while why this is a _good decision. _

"This is us, then…" she says in a tiny voice, and it comes out with more confidence than she was expecting.

He gives her a tiny nod, all the thousands of things he has to say to her caught in his throat for the moment.

And because she doesn't have anything else to say right now, she kisses him again.

**Hope you all enjoyed (especially Freya82)! A few words in a review would be lovely if you've got a moment! Thanks for reading :)**


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